A paraphrase upon the canticles and some select hymns of the New and Old Testament, with other occasional compositions in English verse. By Samuel Woodford |
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| Three Psalms according to the old Version, and
Meeter, ordinarily used in Churches, a little alter'd. |
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 | A paraphrase upon the canticles |  |
55
Three Psalms according to the old Version, and Meeter, ordinarily used in Churches, a little alter'd.
Psal. I.
Beatus Vir qui non abiit.
The Man is blest, whose doubtful Paths
Unrul'd by Sinners are;
Who in their Council never stood,
Nor sat ith' Scorners Chair.
But in the Law of God the Lord
Hath fixt his whole delight;
And in that Law does exercise
Himself both Day and Night.
Unrul'd by Sinners are;
Who in their Council never stood,
Nor sat ith' Scorners Chair.
But in the Law of God the Lord
Hath fixt his whole delight;
And in that Law does exercise
Himself both Day and Night.
He shall be like a Tree, which grows
Close by the Rivers side;
Whose loaded Boughs in Fruits return
Their Tribute to the Tide.
No Storm or Drought shall make him fade,
But he unmov'd shall stand;
Nor shall Success less prosp'rous crown,
What e're he takes in hand.
Close by the Rivers side;
Whose loaded Boughs in Fruits return
Their Tribute to the Tide.
No Storm or Drought shall make him fade,
But he unmov'd shall stand;
Nor shall Success less prosp'rous crown,
What e're he takes in hand.
Not so the Wicked, who as Chaff
By Tempests rais'd on high,
The triumph of fierce Winds are made,
And as they drive them, flie.
Unlike in Life, unlike shall be
The ends which on them wait;
Whilst these in Judgment cannot stand,
And those are prais'd ith' Gate.
For why the ways of Righteous Men
Unto the Lord are known:
But Sinners ways, hid to themselves,
Unto the Dead lead down.
By Tempests rais'd on high,
The triumph of fierce Winds are made,
And as they drive them, flie.
Unlike in Life, unlike shall be
The ends which on them wait;
Whilst these in Judgment cannot stand,
And those are prais'd ith' Gate.
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Unto the Lord are known:
But Sinners ways, hid to themselves,
Unto the Dead lead down.
Psal. LVII.
Miserere mei, Deus miserere.
Great God, on whom I have reli'd,
Whose Mercy is my stay;
Under Thy Wings, or let me hide,
Or on them flie away!
Or hide, or flie, until the Storm
Which threatens me is past;
Thou all things for me dost perform,
In Thee my hope is plac'd.
Whose Mercy is my stay;
Under Thy Wings, or let me hide,
Or on them flie away!
Or hide, or flie, until the Storm
Which threatens me is past;
Thou all things for me dost perform,
In Thee my hope is plac'd.
To God I'll cry, who shall descend
From Heav'n, ith' Fight to close;
And while his Love does me defend
His Truth shall slay my Foes.
With Lions, Lord, my Soul lies down,
shut up within their Den;
Lions so fierce were never known,
Cruel, and bloody Men.
From Heav'n, ith' Fight to close;
And while his Love does me defend
His Truth shall slay my Foes.
With Lions, Lord, my Soul lies down,
shut up within their Den;
Lions so fierce were never known,
Cruel, and bloody Men.
Whose Tongues are Swords, and Eyes all Fire,
With gore and slaughter Red;
And who against me all conspire,
To look, or speak me Dead.
Yet set Thy Glory 'above the Skies,
O're th' Earth exalted be;
For tho so high I cannot rise,
Thou mayst stoop down to me
With gore and slaughter Red;
And who against me all conspire,
To look, or speak me Dead.
Yet set Thy Glory 'above the Skies,
O're th' Earth exalted be;
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Thou mayst stoop down to me
Thou didst so, for as I lookt round,
Pensive and full of care;
My prostrate Enemies strew'd the Ground,
Each tane in his own Snare.
Fixt is my Heart to sing Thy Praise,
Tis fixt, and I'll rejoyce;
Awake my Harp, and with Thee raise,
To Heav'n my tuneful Voice!
Pensive and full of care;
My prostrate Enemies strew'd the Ground,
Each tane in his own Snare.
Fixt is my Heart to sing Thy Praise,
Tis fixt, and I'll rejoyce;
Awake my Harp, and with Thee raise,
To Heav'n my tuneful Voice!
I will awake too, and my Song
To th' Nations shall rehearse
Mercies, whose Praise to Heav'n belong,
Worthy an Angels Verse.
Lord, set Thy Glory 'above the Skies,
O're the Earth exalted be!
Lo, how thy Son does thither rise,
Lift from the Grave by Thee!
To th' Nations shall rehearse
Mercies, whose Praise to Heav'n belong,
Worthy an Angels Verse.
Lord, set Thy Glory 'above the Skies,
O're the Earth exalted be!
Lo, how thy Son does thither rise,
Lift from the Grave by Thee!
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Psal. CXIV.
In exitu Israel de, &c.
When
Israel was by God's address,
And his Almighty Hand,
From Bondage led, and wondrously
Brought to the Promis'd Land;
In Judah God his Glory shew'd,
And did his Power declare;
Israel his great Inheritance,
Temple and Empire were.
And his Almighty Hand,
From Bondage led, and wondrously
Brought to the Promis'd Land;
In Judah God his Glory shew'd,
And did his Power declare;
Israel his great Inheritance,
Temple and Empire were.
The Sea it saw and suddenly
Amaz'd rose up and fled;
The parted streams of Jordans Flood
Ran trembling to their Head.
Aside the Mountains leapt like Rams,
And to the Hills did show,
(The Hills, which shook like frighted Lambs)
The way which they should go.
Amaz'd rose up and fled;
The parted streams of Jordans Flood
Ran trembling to their Head.
Aside the Mountains leapt like Rams,
And to the Hills did show,
(The Hills, which shook like frighted Lambs)
The way which they should go.
What ail'd the Sea that all amaz'd
So suddenly it fled?
And what made Jordans parted streams
Run trembling to their Head?
Why did the Mountains leap, like Rams,
And to the Hills first show,
(The Hills, which shook like frighted Lambs)
The way which they should go?
So suddenly it fled?
And what made Jordans parted streams
Run trembling to their Head?
Why did the Mountains leap, like Rams,
And to the Hills first show,
(The Hills, which shook like frighted Lambs)
The way which they should go?
Confess, O Earth, thy Soveraign Lord,
And at his Presence quake!
Before the Face of Jacob's God
Bow, and Obeysance make!
'Tis he, who caus'd those Rocks to hear,
And when Thy Springs are dry,
Can from their flinty Bowels fetch
Streams, which shall never die.
And at his Presence quake!
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Bow, and Obeysance make!
'Tis he, who caus'd those Rocks to hear,
And when Thy Springs are dry,
Can from their flinty Bowels fetch
Streams, which shall never die.
Psal. CLI.
I
Youngest of all my Brethren, and the leastIn Jesses House, to' a Service I enclin'd,
Which both my Age, and Innocence suited best,
And best the Throne, to which I was design'd:
My Fathers Flock, was early set to keep,
And how to govern Men, first learn among my Sheep.
II
I kept and fed them with a pious care,And as they fed, my Harp, and Pipe assayd;
Them, and my self to please, did Songs prepare,
And variously, as pensive Shepherd, playd:
Till having wearied out an humbler String,
A bolder flight I dare'd, Israels Great God to Sing.
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III
But who such Praise can worthily rehearse?I strove my best, and it acceptance found,
With Heav'ns Blest King, who to approve my Verse,
A double Glory round my Temples bound;
By' his Prophets Hand there plac'd the Regal Crown,
(From the Flock calling me) the Poet's with his own.
IV
I many Brethren had, and great of Might,All valiant Men, and all renown'd in War,
Oft tri'd, but God in them took no delight,
For Causes, tho from us removed far,
To' himself best known, who sees not as Man sees,
But as the Heart is, judges, and gives Dignities.
V
For that, and his own Pleasure He chose me,And having chosen, call'd me forth to fight
With Raphas Giant-son, whose blasphemy
Levell'd at Heav'n, on his own Head did light:
By' his Gods he curst me, and his Gods he curst,
Himself as the chief God propitiating thus first.
VI
But such curse Proof, I out against him went,The firmlier arm'd, as he disarm'd thereby;
And certain Death into his Fore-head sent,
E're he the place could guard, or turn to flie:
He fell: I ran, to th' lifeless Monster came,
From him with's own Sword took his Head, from Israel shame.
| A paraphrase upon the canticles | |